His eyes
had fallen before her passionate gaze. The penholder which he was
grasping snapped in his fingers. Nevertheless, his voice still
performed its office.
"My dear Miss Abbeway," he protested, "who or what has been
putting these ideas into your head?"
"A veritable chance," she replied, "brought me yesterday afternoon
into contact with a man--a neutral--who is supposed to be very
intimately acquainted with what goes on in Germany."
"What did he tell you?" Fenn demanded feverishly.
"He told me nothing," she admitted. "I have no more to go on than
an uplifted eyebrow. All the same, I came away feeling uneasy. I
have felt wretched ever since. I am wretched now. I beg you to
get at once into touch with Freistner. You can do that now
without any risk. Simply ask him for a confirmation of the
existing situation."
"That is quite easy," Fenn promised. "I will do it without delay.
But in the meantime," he added, moistening his dry lips, "can't
you possibly get to know what this man--this neutral--is driving
at?"
"I fear not," she replied, "but I shall try. I have invited him
to dine to-night."
"If you discover anything, when shall you let us know?"
"Immediately," she promised. "I shall telephone for Mr. Orden."
For a moment he lost control of himself.
"Why Mr. Orden?" he demanded passionately. "He is the youngest
member of the Council. He knows nothing of our negotiations with
Freistner. Surely I am the person with whom you should
communicate?"
"It will be very late to-night," she reminded him, "and Mr.
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